


Party til You Puke (On Your Friends)

by Griffy (honklust)



Category: Fake AH crew - Fandom, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Achievement Hunter Heists, Dubious Consent, Emetophilia, FAHC, Face-Fucking, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Multi, Rope Bondage, Vomit, Vomiting, gavin gets revenge at the end, puking on your friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 14:06:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16683046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honklust/pseuds/Griffy
Summary: Ryan has a puke fetish. Michael thinks it's hilarious. Gavin... does not.





	Party til You Puke (On Your Friends)

**Author's Note:**

> BIG TW!!! This is explicitly, graphically a puke fic. It's really nasty. Please do not proceed unless you're prepared to read some really whack shit. <3 18+ only!!
> 
> Edit: my wife drew some SPECTACULAR fanart to go with this!! https://hotclownsinyourarea.tumblr.com/post/180386452040/more-nasty-nasty-fanart-for-fahcnightmares-nasty
> 
> (APPARENTLY THIS IS A NECESSARY THING FOR ME TO SAY BUT IF YOU SHIP MAXVID/ARE A LITERAL PEDOPHILE PLEASE DONT READ MY WORK AND KINDLY FIND A FUCKING CLIFF TO JUMP OFF OF THANKS)

Ryan figures this probably counts as a Bad Thing, and maybe he should’ve felt a little more remorseful about it, but. Well. Most of his morals are pretty quick to fly out the window at times like these, and with Gavin here in front of him, already hazy-eyed and squirming impatiently, well. He doesn’t figure he’s going to be regretting this any time soon.

Michael just sort of dicked around while Ryan tied Gavin up - maybe a little nervous, despite the fact that he kept cracking jokes every five seconds, fiddling with whatever he could get his hands on in Ryan’s room. He’d been told the plan like two days prior, spent the last hour with a gallon of milk in his lap, occasionally upending it so he could take a few long, heavy gulps - he wanted to do a good job, after all. It wouldn’t be as funny if he didn’t have anything in his stomach in the first place. 

“So like, you think Gavin’s gonna puke too?” He offered, eyes once more landing on his best friend, tracing over the length of his legs, tied taut against the cool wood of the kitchen chair. Geoff would be a little mad that they were ruining it, but, whatever. His stomach did a flip - a gurgle of warning crawling up his throat. They should probably get the show on the road. 

“That’s, ah.” Ryan’s voice came out a little thick, betraying his excitement as he curled one hand against Gavin’s face, ran a rough thumb over his cheek. Gavin already looked ill. “That’s the plan.”

Michael snorted out a laugh, shuffling forward finally so he could straddle Gavin’s lap, sitting comfortably with one hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Man, Gavin, you’re so fucked.” 

Gavin had been rambling right up until the moment Ryan actually secured him to the chair. He couldn’t have picked a worse time to get wrapped up in this little experiment or whatever - he’d been feeling kind of sick all day anyway, and the dope he’d had earlier had not necessarily eased his stomach. “Guys, I still don’t, uh--”

“Don’t cop out on us now, c’mon.” Ryan cooed at him, carding his fingers roughly back through Gavin’s hair - perhaps a little too hard, perhaps just the barest edge of a threat. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

He didn’t seem so convinced, but the touching was nice, and Michael did feel nice in his lap, and maybe if he just… focused on that. Focused on the men near him, on the warmth and the smell of sweat and cologne, maybe he could just. Relax. It was going to be fine.

“Now?” Michael said, practically bouncing in Gavin’s lap, inadvertently grinding their dicks together a little in the process. He was endlessly amused by the nasty shit they were planning - he still couldn’t get over the fact that this stuff practically made their notoriously tough Vagabond pretty much nut in his pants.

“Hold on,” Ryan swallowed once more, stepping back so he could get a good look at them - Michael perched eagerly on Gavin’s lap, the strain of Gavin’s shoulders, his arms pinned neatly behind his back. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

The suspense was so heady - the knowledge of exactly how it would play out, the fact that one of his most secret fantasies was about to be realized… He felt like his throat was going to close up. He’d never been harder in his life.

Ryan perched himself on the bed, then decided better of it, moving back to Gavin’s side so he could get a real, direct view of the action. After another beat, a long moment of Gavin whining and complaining and asking if they could just get it over with, and he finally spoke up again. “Alright. Do it.”

Michael spared Ryan one last sideways glance, grinning like it was Christmas. He fucking loved this shit - loved how his penchant for gagging himself seemed to both make Ryan dissolve into a puddle and make Gavin want to crawl out of his skin.

“Ready, Gav?” He asked, not expecting a real answer. He opened his mouth, curling his fingers as he pushed two of them down his throat. He furrowed his brows immediately, his stomach lurching and throat clenching up around the digits as he gagged once - 

Gavin flinched, squirming and letting out a series of increasingly panicked squeals, no longer even really saying anything but, “Wait- wait wait-- no oh, Christ--” as he bucked up underneath Michael. 

At the last moment, Ryan coiled a hand in Gavin’s hair again, holding his head in place, just as Michael gagged a second time, his eyes watering and his body heaving violently forward. A surge of vomit splashed across Gavin’s lower face, dripping down his cheekbones and pooling, thick and sticky, as it clung to his lips and caught in his beard before dripping down his neck. 

Gavin let out a pathetic, helpless yelp, already starting to gag a little himself. Ryan thought he might actually be in heaven - two beautiful boys making complete messes of themselves all for him, Michael’s eyes half-lidded and dripping with tears, a string of bile-thick snot hanging from his nostrils. He wasn’t done, though, and he hooked his fingers back again, really pushed until he gagged once more - harsh and violent. 

Another stream of vomit forced its way up his throat, his body spasming as he hunched closer to Gavin now, their foreheads nearly touching. They were close enough that when the vomit spilled out of his mouth and came cascading down over Gavin’s face it was much more intimate - he could feel the heat of it as it splashed back up against his own skin, sickeningly warm and stinking. 

It was when that awful, heavy flood of bile poured over him that Gavin coiled forward, sobbing pathetically as a low, heavy gag escaped him and he lost his own lunch directly against Michael’s neck, and down both of their chests. He sobbed, loud and horrified, as Michael clung tight to him, his hot, sick-smelling breath against Gavin’s own lips. He wanted to be sick again already, his stomach heaving and head spinning at the foulness of it all, Michael nearly kissing him despite the fact that both their bodies were coated in hot, awful sickness, their shirts clinging wetly to their skin, underwear soaked through with cooling vomit. This was perversion. This was an absolute nightmare.

Ryan stared at Gavin intensely, his hands tense by his sides. He was completely transfixed by the way he tensed and shuddered as he heaved, a flood of hot, yellowish vomit spilling out of his mouth. God, there was just something so _fucking cute_ about the way he puked - the set of his shoulders, the furrow of his brow. He hated to admit that Gavin of all people was _cute_ for fucks sake, but there was no denying that the vulnerability wasn’t kind of adorable. 

Michael laughed out loud - sharp and hoarse - his spit-covered hand coming up to rest on Gavin’s cheek. It was so funny how easy he was to bother, and the way he was sniffling and hiccuping before he returned his gaze to Michael’s was absolutely hilarious. “Aw, Gavin.” He snorted, another peal of giggles escaping him. “Dude, you look terrible.” He ran his thumb across Gavin’s lower lip, felt his body lurch with another little heave. “You done?”

Ryan was… Ryan was losing his shit. He felt like he might die, actually.

Michael had already recovered enough to refocus his eyes on Ryan, smiling dazedly up at him. “S’that what you wanted, you freak?” His voice was slurred and a little croaky and -- and Ryan leaned down and kissed him, shoved his tongue into his sticky mouth, across his teeth. He wanted to fuck them both, wanted to really revel in the pathetic, whimpery post-vomit position that they were in. On the one hand, Michael was so chipper already, just happy to have provided a service, but on the other hand Gavin was practically sobbing, cringing away from the puke that was coating his nice, expensive shirt. 

He didn’t have the time or the patience to spend undoing now-wet rope knots. There was a knife always within arms reach, anyway, and it only took a few frantic, shaky sawing motions to free Gavin from the chair.

Gavin leaned back, breathing hard, his face still painted with a grimace, “Aw, guys, this is--” he gagged again, nothing but dry heaving, “Oh Christ it smells _horrid!”_ His limbs were trembling, eyes half-lidded and face pale. 

“Sure does, dude.” Michael snorted, a little hiccup escaping him as he glanced back over at Ryan.

Ryan was just kind of. Staring at them. He didn’t feel overwhelmed too terribly often, but this. This was a lot. There were a million possibilities in his head, too many ideas, too many things he could do to them. 

Michael seemed inclined to help him decide, at least. He slipped off of Gavin’s lap, knees still wobbling, and leaned up against Ryan, not at all minding the way he got vomit all over the other man’s shirt. “Hey, Gav, watch this,” He giggled again, leaning up and catching Ryan’s mouth in another kiss - this one long and wet and hungry, Ryan’s fingers coiling possessively in Michael’s curls, instinctively pushing him backwards, towards the bed.

Gavin was complaining again, squealing and protesting out loud about how fucking disgusting that was and how after this he was going to go find another crew to hang out with, one that didn’t have a fucking - dry heave - a fucking puke fetish. 

All that said, he didn’t leave the room.

Maybe it was morbid fascination, maybe he just liked Michael and Ryan too much to pussy out this late in the game. Maybe his legs were just too wobbly, his stomach still horribly unsettled.

He sat and watched Ryan make out with Michael like he was planning on eating him alive, his teeth catching Michael’s swollen bottom lip before moving down his neck, licking and sucking at the sticky, puke-coated skin, his teeth sinking in just below his jaw, drawing a sudden, sharp little gasp out of the other man. Michael didn’t figure he’d be getting off in this situation, but he supposed he was about to be pleasantly surprised.

Ryan pulled back eventually, his cheeks red, his breathing incredibly labored. Michael could feel his cock against his thigh and he was honestly kind of surprised the guy hadn’t nutted in his pants. “Gavin. C’mere.” His voice was heavy, practically intoxicated, but there was no denying the authority in his tone. 

Ryan was pretty weird under normal circumstances, and the idea that he might actually be scarier now kind of intrigued Gavin enough to make him listen. He slunk over to the bed, desperate to get his shirt off but not wanting to get his fingers dirty. He tried another method - playing up the sick angle a little. “Michael… Please take this offa me…” He hiccuped again, wincing as the cooling, wet fabric stuck against his skin.

Michael was also breathing pretty hard, he’d admit, but Gavin’s whiny voice did manage to cut through the haze of arousal a little. He shifted up on his elbows, Ryan sitting practically on his lap. “Don’t be fucking pathetic, dude.” He snorted, but he did gesture Gavin closer.

They both helped him get undressed - kind hearted as they were - leaving Gavin a good bit less sticky, shivering a little as he looked them both over. “You both made a real mess outta me.” He frowned, fingers curled in the sheets.

“See, that’s interesting, Gav.” Ryan offered, reaching over and putting a hand on Gavin’s thigh, tongue tracing over his own chapped lips. “You’re complaining a lot for someone whose dick is hard.”

Gavin grumbled in response, letting out a sharp little shout when Ryan shifted off of Michael’s lap and over to him, pushing him down on the bed and kissing him - hard and clumsy, his tongue slipping past Gavin’s lips. Gavin gagged a little once again, the taste of vomit on his lips making him more than a little extra queasy, but Ryan was grinding down against his dick and that was nice. Maybe he could just focus on that.

Unfortunately his distraction didn’t last long, because Michael put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder after a moment, tugging him back. “Hey, lay on your back, man. I got a little more for ya.” His voice was thick and he let out a little burp, grinning mischievously at the vagabond. 

Ryan seemed more than eager to oblige, despite the way Gavin protested, shifting over so he was laying on his back, letting Michael easily straddle his thighs. From this angle, Michael looked like some kind of gross angel - his lips shiny with spit, puke drying on his chin, his dark eyes watery and red. Ryan felt his heart stutter in his chest, hands clenching almost desperately at Michael’s thighs.

If things kept going like this, he thought he might actually tell him he loved him. 

His dick was incredibly hard in his boxers, the dark fabric tented and damp, and Michael wasn’t so unobservant as to not notice. He snickered at him, reaching down and closing one sticky hand over his cock. “Shit, dude, you weren’t kidding, huh? You look so blissed out right now.” 

He adjusted his position, scooting forward so he could grind their dicks together. Ryan thought he might actually cum right there, but he didn’t want to go off before Michael did what he’d implied he was going to do.

He wished he had something snarky to say, but to be honest, words were never exactly his strong suit. If he opened his mouth right now he figured nothing would escape besides garbled, messy nonsense. He kind of wanted to tell Michael he loved him.

That feeling was only amplified by the way Michael arched forward, giving him a shit-eating grin as he pushed his already filthy fingers back into his mouth, past his soft, swollen lips and down the back of his throat. He gagged almost immediately, another dangerous burp bubbling out of him as he let his eyes slide shut. 

And then, right as he started to retch, Ryan finally found his voice. “Wait-- Wait. Do it in my-- Fuck, uh, puke in my mouth. Please? Please.” He sounded whinier than he might’ve liked, suddenly laid bare and vulnerable, his fingers actually shaking a little against Michael’s firm, warm legs.

Gavin made a loud, dramatic gagging sound in the background, having laid down neatly beside them - although he kept himself at a good arms length. “Bloody hell, Ryan--”

Michael let out a maniacal laugh around his digits, but the sound was cut off by a harsh gurgle and then he was folding forward, his face hovering over Ryan’s - tears spilling down his cheeks and nose dripping bile as his face went pale and then, suddenly, blessedly, a surge of vomit spilled out of him, splashing off Ryan’s face just as the man opened his mouth.

He made an absolutely sinful noise as Michael made a mess of him, a chill running up his spine, his skin feeling tight and cold even as his face was splashed with hot stomach acid. It was bitter on his tongue - horrible and thick and _wrong_ and disgusting and exactly the thing he’d been dreaming about.

He couldn’t help himself, nails digging harshly into Michael’s thighs as his body arched forward, their cocks grinding roughly together as he came in a few sudden, eager bursts, soaking the front of his boxers. 

He lay there trembling, eyes half-lidded, brain briefly shut off to everything but the taste of Michael’s vomit in his mouth (wrong and perfect and hot) and the way he looked hovering over him - now even more disheveled, the light catching off the liquid on his chin, casting his features in a slick, sickly yellow. Drool dripped from his bottom lip, his mouth open as he worked to get ahold of himself. Ryan wished he could take a picture.

And then, of course, Michael came to his senses. Another soft laugh escaped his lips, followed by a particularly wet hiccup, and he cupped a hand under Ryan’s chin and forced his mouth closed. “You’re not even gonna swallow, man? Bad manners.” And God, God, _God_ if he hadn’t come a moment ago that would’ve more than done it. 

Michael ground his hips against Ryan’s oversensitive, wet cock, grinning like the devil as he held his mouth closed, fingers playing in the sticky wetness on his lips. And Ryan swallowed - it was hard and rough and it burned and God , he thought his soul might actually have been sucked out of his fucking body. It hurt going down but the sheer _wrongness_ made his head spin. 

“Sick.” Michael snorted, taking his hand away and wiping it off on Ryan’s chest casually. “I didn’t think you’d fucking do it.”

“I’m in hell. I think-- I think I’m actually in hell. I must’ve died. Ryan must’ve killed me in that chair and I died and now I’m suffering for all the things I’ve ever done. I’m sorry.” Gavin was rambling to himself - loud enough that they knew he was trying to get their attention but didn’t want to actually be involved in whatever fucked up shit they might still have left on their itinerary.

 

“Stop bitchin, Gav.” Michael laughed at him, reaching over to teasingly pat him on the cheek with his still-damp hand. “I cannot believe you came from that, dude. You’re real fucked up, huh?” He mumbled, turning his gaze back to Ryan.

Ryan’s brain was still booting back up. It had been a long afternoon and he also kind of felt like he might’ve died, but if he did, well, maybe he was actually in heaven. Must be the result of a clerical error. He wasn’t complaining.

Michael saw the glazed, sleepy look in his eye and made a disgruntled little noise, slapping him on the cheek. “Nuh uh, dude. Don’t conk out on me yet.” He shuffled forward, adjusting his position briefly so he could tug his underwear down, wrapping a hand around his dick. “I did all the legwork here, you better at least return the favor.”

Dazedly, Ryan furrowed his brows, leaning his head up a little only to get a face-full of Michael’s dick. “Uh… You wanna-- You want me t’puke now?” 

“No, dumbass. I’m not a fucking creep.” Michael curled his hand in Ryan’s sweaty hair, tugging his face forward so he could rub his dick against Ryan’s damp mouth. “Just blow me.”

This turn of events _did_ get Gavin’s attention. Certainly, all of them were disgusting and Ryan’s mouth was full of residual vomit, but… Well. If he had been put through all of this mess, he might as well get to have a little fun, right? “Hey, oh, wait, wait a tic. Why do you get t’go first, Michael?” He sat up - maybe a little too fast, his stomach reminded him. Even still, he scooted forward, doing his damnedest to not focus too much on the fact that Michael and Ryan were both practically coated in cooling puke. Christ.

“Uhh, I just said. I get to go first because I did all the work.” Michael glared at him, rubbing his dick against Ryan’s mouth with a little more intent. He made a pleased little noise when Ryan actually did something to help him, pressing a dazed kiss against the underside of his cock.

“Work! You just made yourself chunk all over both of us! I’m the one who got-- got roped into all this!” Gavin shouted, probably loud enough that the rest of the penthouse could hear - as if they hadn’t likely heard this entire ordeal going down.

“Ohhhh, you got _roped into it._ I don’t give a shit, dude, you just sat there and whined the whole time.” And he shifted his position, shoved his dick in between Ryan’s lips with a shaky, low sigh. “B’sides, I’ll be done pretty fast.” 

Gavin was already in full-on pout mode, shifting over on his knees so he could also rub his cock against Ryan’s face, like maybe he thought he could bully Michael over far enough to get his dick into his mouth. “You’re such a prick, Michael.” 

Michael wasn’t in the business of sharing - not right now anyway, when he was this close to getting off (provided that Gavin left him the fuck alone for a second.) “If you don’t fuck off I’m literally going to hold you down and puke on you again.” He didn’t know if he actually _could_ do that, but he figured the threat might suffice. 

“Alright, but--” He gagged a little, just at the thought of being in such a position again - the idea of having it in his _mouth--_ “But Ryan said he’d make it up to me!” 

Ryan was, evidently, not a part of this conversation. He didn’t think he would be able to talk even if Michael didn’t have his dick pushed up against his tongue - his brain felt like someone had thrown it into a cotton candy machine. Even so, he pulled back enough to breathe, wrapping one hand clumsily around both their dicks.

This seemed to provide some solution to the argument, as Ryan clumsily pressed a kiss to Gavin’s cock, spending enough time messily licking at the head that he stopped talking and started back making those eager, whiny noises of his. He kept at it just long enough for Michael to get jealous again, returning his attention to his dick instead.

That lasted a good minute, but Gavin wasn’t a patient person. Neither was Michael, per se, but. Well. Gavin’s fuse had been more than shortened by the afternoon’s events and it wasn’t long before he had both hands in the back of Ryan’s hair, shoving Michael out of the way and properly straddling his face so he could shove his cock down his throat in one smooth motion. A surprised little groan spilled out of Ryan’s mouth as he struggled to swallow around his dick. Michael was protesting, but, well. He’d be lying if the sight of Gavin well and properly fucking Ryan’s face wasn’t like, pretty hot. 

He held his head in place, fingers twisting tight in his long hair, completely disrupting the bun it was tied into, using any bit of leverage he could to smash his skinny hips up against Ryan’s nose. “Fuck, oh-- hah. S-See, Ryan, this is why you shoul’nt trick me in’ta things.” His voice was thick, almost drunk on the power, his cock throbbing inside Ryan’s mouth. He wasn’t focusing on the fact that his mouth was extra warm, extra slippery, not focusing on the fact that he was probably shoving his cock into a pool of vomit --- he just focused on the motion, the push and pull, the rattle of Ryan’s harsh, uneven breathing as he struggled to draw in air around Gavin’s violent thrusts.

“Jesus, dude, don’t kill him.” Michael mumbled from the sidelines, working his own cock as he watched him. It always sort of surprised him when Gavin finally slipped off the deep end like this, but he figured Ryan probably wouldn’t mind. He was a sturdy dude. In any case, the way Ryan’s fingers were clenched against Gavin’s hips seemed to be… encouraging. Or maybe he was just holding on for dear life.

It wasn’t all that long until Gavin was arching forward, coiling up around Ryan’s skull and holding him taut against his pelvis, dick buried to the hilt in his throat. “Ohh fuck-- oh fuck haha- Ryan, I,” He pulled back just as he came, tossing his head back and spilling all over his tongue and his chin, his fingers clasped around the base of his cock. 

Michael did not give him any time to revel in his victory, already nudging him roughly out of the way, pushing his cock up against Ryan’s swollen mouth. “Fuck off, already. My turn.” Michael didn’t have quite the same gusto that Gavin did - he didn’t have anything to prove, he just wanted somewhere nice and warm to nut. He was a simple man.

He took his time at first, pushing Ryan’s head down against the bed and grinding forward into his mouth, nice and slow, reveling in the clumsy, instinctive way Ryan’s tongue ran across his cock. “Haha, yeah, that’s good. Keep doin’ that.” He mumbled, low and rough, fingers splayed across the stained sheets above Ryan’s head.

“You look like a mess, man.” He kept talking, little quips, more to himself than anyone else. Ryan was half-unconscious at this point anyway, evidently being kept alive purely by the dick in his mouth or something. “Someone oughta film this and post it on liveleak.” He humped forward a little harder then, revelled in the low gurgling noise Ryan made, his fingers digging into the backs of Michael’s thighs. “You want me to cum down your throat, man? You want more? Figure you’d be pretty full from earlier.”

Ryan seemed to like that particular line - he tensed up again and if Michael wasn’t certain he’d already came in his underwear he might’ve assumed he had nutted just off his words. That was nice. There was a kind of thrill in that kind of power, and he felt himself edging closer now, exhaustion eating at him even as a chill raced up his spine and he curled a hand under the back of Ryan’s head, pushing in deep, burying his cock down his throat as he came. His back stiffened, knees digging hard into the bed as his vision went white. Oh fuck. Christ. Okay. Maybe that was the best orgasm he’d had in a while. 

He stayed like that for a long moment, felt Ryan swallowing around him in an effort not to choke on his cum. When he finally pulled back he sat on Ryan’s chest, looking down at the absolute mess that they’d made of the poor dude.

Actually, they’d sort of made a mess of the entire room. There was vomit spewed from their location on the bed all the way over to the chair they were in earlier, and the carpet was most certainly fucked. Geoff was going to be so fucking mad.

Michael couldn’t bring himself to care, though, especially with the way exhaustion had suddenly crept up on him. He settled for sinking down beside Ryan on the opposite end from where Gavin was laying, resting his head on one supremely sweaty bicep and slinging his arm across Ryan’s damp chest. “Pretty wild night, dude, I will say.”

Ryan mumbled something incoherent in response, something that maybe sounded a little like “I love you” or “I loved it” or something gay and sappy like that. Michael didn’t comment. After a few moments, Gavin seemed to decide that he wasn’t going to get any _more_ filthy if he joined them, and he slithered up taut against Ryan’s other side.

They fell asleep like that - coated in slime and physically exhausted, Gavin and Michael coiled almost affectionately up around Ryan.


End file.
